Near
the border of Pleiku and Binh Dinh Provinces the Dak Pihao Mountains
tower above the surrounding hills and plains of the central highlands.
Highway 19, beginning at the coastal port of Qui Nhon, winds its way
westward to Pleiku through the highlands, passing through a narrow slit
in these mountains known as the Mang Yang Pass.
Highway 19 is one lifeline that feeds the allied forces operating
in the highlands at Pleiku, Kontum and the border camps. For years the
Communists have harassed traffic on Highway 19 and attempted to close it
on numerous occasions. Once, over 17 years ago, they did. The graves of
several hundred Frenchmen atop the northern rim of the Mang Yang Pass
bear mute testimony to the Communist victory. They died within a few
kilometers of their resting place.
The story of their battle has been recorded for history in the
fascinating work of the late French journalist Bernard B. Fall, The
Street Without Joy (The Stackpole Company-1964), from which the
following condensed account is derived.

The Mang Yang looking toward An
Khe
Photo
credit: Baker

In 1953
the French were locked in a vicious struggle with the Viet Minh in
Indochina. During the latter part of that year the Viet Minh conducted a
successful offensive in southern Laos sweeping French forces out of the
area. The Viet Minh withdrew but left two regiments of the Vietnamese
People's Army, the 803rd and 108th, to conduct operations in the
Vietnamese central highlands.

In July
a cease fire had stilled another Asian conflict in Korea. From there the
French High Command withdrew the Bataillon de Coree, made up of
volunteers who had served with distinction as an element of the U.S. 2nd
Infantry Division.

The
battalion was dispatched to Indochina where additional units were added to
bring it to regimental strength. On Nov. 15, 1953, the Korea Regiment was
combined with the Battalion de Marche of the 43rd Colonial Infantry, composed
of French and Cambodian jungle fighters, plus armor and artillery elements to
form the Groupement Mobile (G.M.) 100.

On
New Year's Day 1954, the Group Mobile 100 departed Saigon for the central
highlands to assume the burden of the area's defense. During February the G.M.
conducted operations around Kontum where the presence of the 803rd People's
Army Regiment was being felt. After the Viet Minh overran outposts north of
Kontum, the G.M. withdrew to dig in at Pleiku. But after overrunning a G.M.
outpost at Dak Doa on Feb. 17, the 803rd disappeared into the jungle.

In
late March the 803rd reappeared in the south near the junction of Highways 14
and 7. The Group Mobile 100 moved south to meet the challenge. On March 22 the
803rd struck, hitting the G.M. in bivouac at Plei Rinh with mortar and
recoilless rifle fire. After a sharp, two hour engagement the Viet Minh were
beaten back, leaving 39 dead, 2 wounded and numerous bloody bandages on the
battlefield. The G.M. suffered 36 killed, 177 wounded and 8 missing.

"The
two Viet Minh regiments in the central plateau area," noted Fall,
"had now worked out their tactics in fine detail: unhampered by heavy
equipment, unburdened by such matters as keeping open several hundred
kilometers of road, they were able to move faster than any motorized force
opposing them which by necessity had to operate from the peripheral roads."

Within
a week, the center of action shifted north again to the area of An Khe where
the Viet Minh had cut Highway 18 in the east. An Khe was held by Group Mobile
11, composed of lowland Vietnamese. Once again the Group Mobile 100 took to the
roads, traveling 140 kilometers to the fortified camp at Pk 22 (i.e., Pleiku
22, the kilometer marking at the point 22 kilometers from An Khe traveling
toward Pleiku) at the eastern entrance of the Mang Yang Pass. Their task was to
keep Highway 19 open to An Khe.

On
Apr. 1 elements of the G.M. 100 were employed to open the road from Pk 22 to Pk
11 while units of the G.M. 11 provided security from there to An Khe for a
gasoline convoy. After the convoy completed its mission, the security units
began withdrawing from Pk 11 leapfrogging one another toward Pk 22.

At
3:30 p.m. as the units of G.M. 100 passed Pk 15 they were ambushed by two
battalions of the 108th Regiment. The French counterattacked and managed to
gain enough time to clear the road of wrecked vehicles, load up their dead and
wounded and pull back to the camp at Pk 22. The ambush cost the G.M. 90 dead
while the Viet Minh lost 81. The GM was now 25% understrength.

Despite
its weakness in the face of growing enemy strength, the G.M. 100 was sent back
to An Khe to relieve the G.M. 11. There it began digging in to prepare for the
expected Communist onslaught.

On
May 8, 1954, Dien Bien Phu fell and a few days later the men of the G.M. heard
the following broadcast from Viet Minh loudspeakers:

"Soldiers
of Mobile Group 100, your friends at Dien Bien Phu have not been able to
resist the victorious onslaught of the Vietnamese People's Army. You are much
weaker than Dien Bien Phu. You will die, Frenchmen, and so will your Vietnamese
running dogs."

It
became obvious that the G.M. without reinforcements could not hold An Khe, and
the order was given for its return to Pleiku. On June 23 intelligence reported
a Viet Minh force moving toward Highway 19 in the west. The G.M. 100 began its
evacuation on June 24 with Pk 22 as the objective of the first day's march.

The
evacuation began at 3 a.m. with the 43rd Colonials in the lead. The troops were
dismounted providing a screen for the vehicles.

At
Pk 6, the rearguard received sniper fire and at Pk 8 a soldier suddenly keeled
over dead, hit with a poison dart from a montagnard blow gun.

Rocks
on the Road

Shortly
after 12:30 p.m., a report was received from jungle commandos screening the
advance that Viet Minh elements were three kilometers north of the highway.

Around
2 p.m. the 43rd Colonials reached Pk l5 where a small plain covered with
elephant grass borders the road. They found rocks on the road, a sign of an
ambush, and sent out a company to reconnoiter through the elephant grass.

"The
Viets were here," wrote Fall. "The big, the final ambush to engulf
all of G.M. 100 was ready to be sprung. Vietnam's 803rd People's Army
Regiment had kept its promise. The main striking force was already in place,
its weapons poised, while the French were strung out along a road where their
heavier firepower could hardly come into play."

The
reconnaissance company triggered the ambush and the Viet Minh opened up with
devastating mortar and artillery fire. Within a few minutes the lead armor was
destroyed and the mobile command post knocked out.

Soon
the French ammo trucks began to explode under the Viet Minh mortar barrage. At
the same time, the Korea Regiment arrived, pushed through the wrecked vehicles
and linked up with the 43rd which managed to get a few of its vehicles running
and break out. But the Viet Minh quickly closed the ring. The Korea Regiment
formed a defensive perimeter and dug in. The B26 bombers arrived from Nha Trang
to strafe and drop napalm but the fighting was at close quarters now and they
were ineffective.

The
remanants of G.M. 100 were ordered to break out to Pk 22. When it became dark
the break out began into the dense jungle south of the road. There the G.M.
broke up into small units for faster movement and began its arduous trek.
During the night the G.M. suffered hundreds of casualties to Viet Minh ambushes
and the next day the struggle continued.

On
the morning of June 25 after 40 hours of almost continuous fighting, the
survivors reached the camp at Pk 22 held by the 1st Airborne Group. After the
stragglers were collected, the French pulled back to a Mang Yang Pass garrison
held by the Montagnard Mobile Group 42.

The
battle was not yet over for now the retreat began again from the Mang Yang Pass
to Pleiku. By June 28 the French were only 30 kilometers from Pleiku and had
entered an area of plains with tilled fields and villages bordering the road
when signs of an ambush began to appear. It was now the 108th Regiment's turn.

This
time the French were prepared to react when the first shots were fired. They
quickly formed a defensive perimeter with their artillery and vehicles in the
center. At 12:15 p.m. the Viet Minh infantry attacked the sector held by the
Korea Regiment, broke through and pressed on toward the artillery now firing at
point blank range.

The
Korea Regiment managed to counterattack, however, and with yells of "Coree" hit the Viet Minh in the flank. They were aided by the arrival of the
B26s which, for once, had the Viet Minh in the open. The Viet Minh were forced
to withdraw. On June 29 the convoy reached Pleiku.

Group
Mobile 100 was finished. Less than half of its more than 3,000 men made it from
An Khe to Pleiku. Virtually all its vehicles and equipment were destroyed or
captured. In five days of fighting the Korea Regiment had suffered more
casualties than in two years of fighting in Korea.

On
July 20 the armistice was signed at Geneva ending the First Indochina War. On
Sept. 1, 1954, the Group Mobile 100 was officially dissolved by the French High
Command.

A
few years later the 803rd and 108th NV A Regiments would return to the south to
fight another war.

At
Pleiku 15 a marker was erected with an inscription in Vietnamese and French:
"Here soldiers of France and Vietnam died for their countries."

Today's
Antithesis

Today
on Highway 19 an occasional wrecked deuce-and-a-half along the side of the road
testifies that the Communists are still here. But the situation is vastly
different from 1954. Highway 19 is no longer an unimproved, dirt road. Now it
is surfaced and allows vehicles greater speed.

An occasional wrecked
deuce-and-a-half

Photo
credit:
Baker

Military
convoys travel the road every day between Pleiku and An Khe. In addition to the
military traffic, there are green and yellow buses with
their roofs piled high with luggage and people hanging out the windows as well as
dump trucks, oil tanker trucks and motor scooters on the road often traveling
alone.

Guarding
Highway 19 from Pleiku to An Khe is now the responsibility of the 3rd ARVN
Armored Cavalry Squadron and U.S. Task Force 19.

The
3rd Armored Cavalry was organized on Jan. 1, 1954, the same day the Group
Mobile 100 began its ill-fated journey into the highlands. After the Geneva
Armistice, the unit moved south and became a part of the Army of the Republic
of Vietnam.

"During
the day ," according to ARVN Colonel Tran Ly Hung, commanding officer of
the 3rd Armored Cav, "you can drive a single jeep from Pleiku to the Mang
Yang and back without an escort."

U.S. advisor
confers with
ARVN
3rd Cav
commander

Photo
credit: Baker

The
3rd Cav strings out its armored personnel carriers and tanks along the highway
to provide maximum coverage. Each tank and APC can provide mutual support in
the event of an enemy attack. Furthermore, the armor is backed up by artillery
stationed at strategic points along the road. At night the road is closed to
normal traffic. Bridges along the road are defended by Regional Force
outposts. There are also several permanent outposts, among them one at
Deadman's Curve and another in the Mang Yang Pass -- historically and
theoretically the two worst spots in the road.

A
Deadly Curve

Deadman's
Curve derives its name from the numerous casualties convoys have suffered
there. Located a few kilometers west of the Mang Yang, it is a sharp, S curve
that forces convoys to slow down and limits traffic to one lane. South and
immediately opposite

the
curve a forest-covered mountain rises 1,000 feet over the road, offering the
Communists a perfect ambush site.

The
Mang Yang Pass itself is perhaps the worst ambush site with its steep walls
thickly covered with brush. In the area of the pass, hundreds of grey,
leafless tree trunks stand, casualties of the countless barrages and bombs that
have hit there.

"There
is always someone there," commented Captain Ralph J. Ferrara of the MACV
advisory team to the 3rd Armored Cav. "If we pulled out at night, that road
would no longer be there."

In
the morning the APCs and tanks search for the mines that the Communists have
planted along the shoulders of the road the night before. After they have
cleared the road, it is opened to traffic.

Military
convoys along the road are monitored and in the event of an ambush artillery,
armor, and helicopter gunship support can be called in within minutes.

The
Bahnar tribesmen still live along the highway in their wooden huts mounted on
stilts. Now their villages are defended by Popular Force units. Montagnard boys
play along the side of the road and bare breasted women with either a baby or a
basket strapped to their backs trek along footpaths on their way to market. An
old man squats stone-like beside the road holding up a carved, wooden
helicopter and waiting for a GI trucker or engineer to come along and make an
offer.

The
montagnards have proved to be an important element in improving the security of
the highway.

They
fill the ranks of the RF and PF units defending the highway bridges and
adjoining villages. They keep an eye out for Communist activities in the area.

"The
people have been won over by the government," Ferrara commented. "I think
this is the main reason the road is relatively secure."

The montagnards are
often targets of Communist terrorism.

The
Communists here today are only strong enough to be an irritation albeit a
painful one. They do not have the resources for a major attack now.

The
situation has changed considerably since 1954. It is now the Communists who are
outnumbered and outgunned. They are now the ones with a lengthy and unreliable
supply line. From the standpoint of the allied strength in the area, it appears
unlikely that the Communists will ever duplicate their victory of 17 years ago.

Radio relay
station on top of the Mang Yang Pass in 1971
Photo credit:
15th webmaster

NOTE:
Many of the men from the 15th Artillery served on firebases on either side
of the Mang Yang Pass. LZ Schueller was to the east, and Paul Hunter
adds these memories:

"LZ Schueller was nearest PK 11 on the map in the article.
As I remember it we were approximately 12 km west of An Khe. Our
purpose in being there was to push the VC back in order to reduce the
number of ambushes on the convoys heading west."

Ten spinning tires
slap the asphalt of QL-1. They carry a silent but deadly cargo amid a
speeding convoy transporting supplies to one of the allied units
stationed throughout Military Region 2.
The ten tires roll beneath a U.S. Army 5-ton truck. About 3,000 pounds
of whispering thunder rests in the truck's cargo bed in the form of four
50-caliber machine guns paired over-under style on a single mount.

Easy Rider, Southern Comfort, American Breed, A Whole Lot o' Lead -- all
are quad-50 machinegun convoy escort trucks that belong to E Battery,
41st Air Defense Artillery. This Tuy Hoa based battery, popularly known
as the "bastard" unit of Second Regional Assistance Group
Artillery because it totes 50-caliber machine guns instead of 105-mm
Howitzers, provides convoy protection and perimeter security daily to 11
installations and firebases throughout Military Region 2.

With 25,000 square miles of every type of terrain imaginable for an area
of operations, E Battery manages to keep pretty busy, according to
Captain Thomas L. Baily, E Battery commander.

The number of convoy escort missions provided by the battery varies each
month. In June, three sections alone convoyed with 31 separate missions,
and sometimes the crews operated in a pinch.

"Hit 'em in the
logistics," a general once said about the enemy. But before he said
it, he made sure his own convoy teams were staffed with shutout
pitching.

That's another way
to say that they had little sham time. One crew, for instance, was
called upon to provide protection for a two-day resupply convoy. When
they arrived at the destination, the installation was on "red"
alert and the quads took up perimeter security all night with double
shifts. The next day, the quads escorted the convoy on the two-day
return trip. Crew members ate and slept on their vehicles, sometimes
performing weapons maintenance on the run.

How does the work load affect the morale of the quad-50 members?
Apparently the more work, the better.
"I've been real, real lucky so far," Baily said. "My men
take pride in their guns as well as in their missions. I've got E-5s
doing jobs that lieutenants do, and usually I don't get word about a
mission until it's over and they're calling in an after-action report.
"If they get clearance to fire on a mission, you don't have to ask
them twice. They'll spray hell out of everything," he added.

And what does it take to be a crewman on
the quads?
The members of Easy Rider-Southern Comfort section stationed at Camp
Wilson have most of the answers.

"A lot of guts and no brains," joked one of Easy Rider's
crewmen. He drew a few boo's from the rest of the two crews standing
around him.
"The quads can do anything if they have to," commented PFC
Mike Walsh from sister gun-truck Southern Comfort.
"There it is," chorused a few.
"I wouldn't want to be any other place in Vietnam but on that
truck. If I'm going to make it home, it will be because of that
truck," another chimed in.
"We just have to make sure everybody has his field jacket and pot
on. You've got to keep your sierra together."

Speaking was Southern Comfort's crew chief and section NCOIC, Walter
Miller of Montezuma, Ga. He was assigned to the quads in May, and
it didn't take long for him to adapt to the roadrunner pace.
"For every eight hours on the road, we usually pull at least three
hours of maintenance," he said.
"When we get above 10 per cent deadline," Baily added,
"all hell breaks loose. But until then, you don't hear anything --
good or bad -- as long as the trucks are running."

Photo credit: Cockson

Both statements partially reflect the importance placed on the fire support and
shock effect that the quads make available. The enemy tends to stay away from
the quads' sectors of fire in perimeter night defensive postions. And on the
road, the brightly colored gun mounts are recognized as law 'n order badges
rather than as easy targets by the enemy. There is a certain excitement, a natural feeling of confidence, that spreads
over each quad crew on convoy escort missions.

And it is reassuring
to them to wheel unhampered through a potentially dangerous pass with a
convoy when only a week before another convoy without their escort was
plagued with enemy harassing fire.

There also appears to be a certain amount of respect for the 10-ton
thunder-truckers among the friendly Vietnamese populace. Passing through
the villages, Vietnamese adults silently watch the convoy roll on while
the kids wave at all the vehicles. When the quads pass in review, the
kids gape in awe and flail their hands more vigorously while the adults
follow with their eyes the path of each quad until it is obscured from
sight.

A day in the firebase is somewhat less exciting. The wind that blows a
man's nose back against his face as he looks sidelong from the rear deck
of a quad escort on the move no longer exists and the resulting heat is
oppressive. When it becomes too dark to pull maintenance, guard duty is
the only job left. It lasts all night.

But the chow is good -- at Firebase
Wilson anyway. And Miller's crews do find things to do to pass away
their free time. In the late afternoons, they can watch the Koreans
stationed on the same perimeter lift heavy weights as though they were
balloons on toothpicks. That's only a warm-up for an occasional
Taekwando demonstration, judo Korean-style.

Or the enlisted men and NCOs from the artillery battery down the hill
may bring their small arms weapons up to the test fire range near the
Southern Comfort crew's hootch for some target practice at the mud
puddles below them in the valley.

When Easy Rider and Southern Comfort get together for such an exercise,
they create a firepower demonstration that brightens the twilight with
trails of red tracers. The racket created by the spitting quads sounds
like thunder from a marching band of a thousand snare drums. Each quad
can lay down 2,000 rounds a minute.

The next day brings more weapons maintenance in the early morning hours.
Miller sees that it all goes well.
"I don't have too many command problems," he said.
"The people -- they respect me. I'm the only black man in the
section and I like to pitch in and work with the men myself."
He's the boss, but he also changes tires. The men acknowledge that he's
the section leader, and they call him "Miller" instead of
"sergeant." Miller prefers it that way. He also pulls a shift
on guard every night. And when he announces that a mission has just been
called in and the trucks have to be on their way to the start point in a
half hour, the crews don't have to be told to get with the action.
Southern Comfort and Easy Rider have never been late for a mission.

"Sometimes I wonder about these guys," Miller says. "They
always want to get on the road."

The following
article appeared in the March 25, 1971 ARTILLERY REVIEW, "an unofficial authorized
photo offset newspaper published monthly by the I Field Force Vietnam Artillery
Information Office."

By SP4 James V.
Durkin
6/32nd Arty IO

PHAN RANG - A
handful of American missionaries and approximately 50,000 Montagnards are a lot happier
and a little richer today, thanks to the donations of the men of I Field Force Vietnam.

On March 5, at the
Evangelical Montagnard Training Center in Phan Rang, Colonel Robert J. Landseadel, Jr.
presented Reverend and Mrs. Keith Kaiser with a donation of over 59,900 piasters, or $218.

The donation came
from the collection offerings of I Field Force Vietnam chapels' Protestant services on
February 14.

The Evangelical
Montagnard Training Center was founded by the Evangelical Church of Vietnam, which is
sponsored by the Christian and Missionary Alliance of North America. The Alliance has over
850 missionaries in 27 countries, and has been carrying out its work in Vietnam for over
60 years.

Primarily, the
Training Center is intended to bring religious instruction to the Montagnard people, which
is accomplished by teaching the tribesmen to read, mostly primers of Bible stories. It
also serves as an instruction center for Montagnard ministers and pastors. There were
about 400 pastors and 100 ordained ministers. It is also a gathering place for conferences
of the pastors and ministers.

Reverend and Mrs.
Kaiser have been in Vietnam for four years, and will shortly leave for a one year tour of
the States and Canada, raising funds and searching out prospective missionaries. Their
first four years were very rewarding, they say. Besides spreading the Gospel of Christ,
they found each other. They met during the Tet offensive of 1968!

The money will be
used to improve the existing facilities at the Center, to help build another guest house,
and to help build a parsonage for the Vietnamese Pastor. Presently there is a church with
room for 200, three classrooms, a missionaries' residence, and a guest house which will
sleep 80.

The United States
servicemen's presence has been a great help. "I wish the American people could hear
more about us. You hear so much anti-military, but right here in Phan Rang, the Air Force
has given us lumber to build three churches. We've easily been given $1000 from Army and
Air Force units in the area," said the young missionary.

Reverend and Mrs.
Kaiser are dedicated people involved in a worthwhile cause, and the men of I FFORCEV can
know that their generous donations are being put to good use.

PHAN RANG  Specialist Five Dennis Johnson,
a Clinical Specialist assigned to the 5th Battalion 27th Artillery, recently treated a
member of the 589th Engineer Battalion who was bitten by a Pit Viper.

The engineer was working in a maintenance shop
when he moved a truck tire and confronted the 2-1/2 foot long Viper. The snake, which was
identified as a Taiwan Habu, bit the engineer on the index finger of his right hand.

"If he had been bitten anywhere else, on the
forearm for instance, the snake could have injected venom into the lower layers of skin
and caused a more serious bite," related SP5 Johnson.

"Since the bite was on the finger, the snake
could not get a good grasp," he continued. "In fact, the snake broke one of its
fangs when it hit the bone in the finger."

The snake was killed and brought to the Aid
Station with the patient ten minutes after the incident occurred.

SP5 Johnson, who had gained some experience with
snake bites when he treated the victim of a s Rattlesnake bite at Fort Sam Houston, Texas,
immediately checked and cleaned the wound and had the patient soak his hand in a warm
solution. The wound area was then packed in ice and the patient given a Tetanus Toxoid
inoculation.

Later in the day, as the patient was resting
under observation in the 589th Hospital Ward, two younger Pit Vipers, about 12 inches in
length, were discovered and killed in the same building. Two larger ones escaped.

The patient was released after two days and
suffered no adverse reaction to the bite.

Seven
states are currently offering bonuses upon completion of tour of duty in the Republic of
Vietnam. The states and benefits now offered are:

CONNECTICUT

$10 per month not to exceed $300

DELAWARE

$15 per month stateside duty, not to
exceed $225, $20 per month foreign duty, not to exceed $300

ILLINOIS

$100 lump sum; survivors $1,000

LOUISIANA

$250 after hostilities and an
official statement by the President to that effect

MASSACHUSETTS

$300 for Vietnam duty; $200
elsewhere

PENNSYLVANIA

$25 per month not to exceed $750

VERMONT

$120 lump sum for Vietnam duty

VIETNAMESE LAWS

MACV Directive 58-1
para. 7a states, "Motor vehicle operators will obey all Vietnamese traffic laws and
regulations and will comply with the instructions of Vietnamese police controlling
traffic". Additionally, pedestrians are expected to respond to Vietnamese police
traffic control procedures. It is imperative that all US personnel comply with local
traffic laws and regulations. When a member of the US Armed Forces violates traffic laws
and regulations, not only does the individual violating the law make a bad impression but
this reflects poorly on the US Armed Forces and the United States. Remember, you represent
the United States. Be a good example, obey the laws.

VEHICLE SAFETY

During Dec 70, 5 USARV
vehicles were involved or allegedly involved in "Hit and Run" accidents. These
accidents resulted in five fatalities and two serious injuries to Vietnamese citizen
personnel. Fleeing the scene of an accident is a serious charge for which court-martial
can be held resulting in a maximum sentence of a bad conduct discharge, forfeiture of all
pay and allowances and confinement at hard labor not to exceed six (6) months. All
personnel when involved in a traffic accident must stop, render aid to the injured and
notify the Military Police. This is not only a legal obligation, but also a moral one.

PERSONNEL CLAIMS

A continuing problem is
being encountered in connection with thefts of small items of substantial value from the
accompanied, but not hand-carried baggage of personnel traveling on R+R, TDY, or leave.
Losses of small items of substantial value (over $50.00) in such cases under circumstances
indicating theft (e.g. the suitcase arrives but the valuable contents don't) are NOT
payable. So hand-carry your expensive cameras, jewelry, casette tape players, etc.

"It's no damned wonder you
always win," teased the American sergeant, as he scooped up his new hand of cards.
"You always deal yourself first and then finish the rest of the table
backwards."

Kit Carson scout Trinh Ban Bong
acknowledged the chiding with a mischievous smile, looked at his hand and asked, "Can
you open?"

Four card players surrounded the
hood of a jeep which they were using as a table--two of them Kit Carson Scouts, formerly
enemy soldiers, and two of them American soldiers. The cards were soiled and dog-eared and
the stakes were match sticks.

After a round of bold betting,
Bong took three new cards for his own hand before addressing the table.

"Cards?" he asked.

During the final round, Bong
called to the power. His opponent spread a full house across the jeep's hood. Seeing he
was beaten, Bong slammed his cards on the OD tabletop with such mock disdain that he sent
match sticks and discards bouncing to the fenders and onto the ground.

Although Bong's nonchalance
toward American poker rules may raise a few eyebrows, his ability at sniffing out the
enemy for his American unit, the 7/17th Air Cavalry, 4th Infantry Division, will cause no
one to call for a misdeal. He and nearlv 200 other Kit Carson Scouts, (KCS) are using
their experience as former enemy soldiers to help the 4th Infantry Division
defeat the VC and NVA in northwestern II Corps.

The Marines started the KCS
program on a trial basis in the spring of 1966. Since that time, because of its success,
it has become a nationwide program and a proven, effective way to second guess the enemy.
Almost all American units that conduct tactical combat operations in II Corps are assisted
by Kit Carson Scouts.

"Most of them have more or
less grown up with this war," explained the 4th Division KCS project officer, First
Lieutenant Robert E. Ponzo, New York City. "They have an almost instinctive ability
for guessing what the enemy will do in a given situation. They know the enemy, they know
the jungle, and they have made a definite political decision by changing sides."

Photo by: SP4 Cliff Woita

Formerly a VC sapper,
Kit Carson Scout Tong Cong Nghiep demonstrates his enemy-acquired skill of
going through the wire. In less than five minutes, he snaked his way through
the barbed wire barrier without making a sound.

What motivates these men, whose
average age is about 23, to leave the ranks of the enemy to work for the allied forces is
a question often asked but seldom fully answered.

"The language barrier is one
of the biggest problems in finding out why they change sides," inserted Captain Billy
L. Weaver, 704th Maintenance Battalion. "Even with the English language training they
receive before becoming a scout, it is difficult to have a conversation in depth with
them. Our scout, Tu Duc, who is worth his weight in gold, was a VC guerrilla for over two
years. What made him change his mind, we don't talk about. All that matters is that he
does an outstanding job of saving American lives."

"Their record speaks for
itself," added Lieutenant Ponzo. "In the past two months we have awarded two of
them the Silver Star, which is the highest American medal for valor that the scouts are
authorized to receive."

One of these scouts, Nguyen Thu,
was walking point for his company, A Company, 1/14th Infantry, on a search and clear
mission when they ran into a company-sized NVA unit. During the immediate exchange of
fire, Thu was hit in the left arm and leg but refused to go to the rear for medical
attention. The fire fight lasted for nearly an hour with the wounded Kit Carson Scout
running from platoon to platoon pointing out possible enemy movement. Realizing that the
enemy was about to out-flank his unit, he ran across an open, 25-meter stretch of paddy
land to inform the company commander, who called in cobra gunships to stop the advancing
enemy force.

During the fight mortars landed
only a few yards from the commander's position and started fires which Thu beat out with
his hands and feet. In doing so he received serious burns on his hands and arms but still
refused medical attention. He then darted about 30 meters outside the perimeter and began
yelling at the enemy, telling them to rally to the GVN. "Chieu Hoi, Chieu Hoi"
were his last words before he was mortally wounded.

"The Silver Star was awarded
posthumously," said Lieutenant Ponzo. "Dedication to duty like that has us all
sold on the program. And they know what they are getting into before they become scouts.
In the past year we have had four scouts killed, and I tell them that before they take the
job. They know they will wind up with the point element of their unit, and still we get
volunteers."

Each of the scouts joins the
program on a voluntary basis. After rallying to the GVN, he spends about six weeks at the
Chieu Hoi Center where he is given a political education and some vocational training.
Upon release from the center he is granted a six-month draft exemption and can do as he
chooses. Just prior to his release, recruiters like Lieutenant Ponzo introduce them to the
KCS program. Those who volunteer are then given a personal interview by the recruiting
officer and a Vietnamese interpreter.

"During the interview, I
consider the man's experience as a soldier, his physical condition, and just generally how
he responds to my questions;" Lieutenant Ponzo said. "Experience is probably the
most important consideration: if a man was only a rice bearer for the enemy, his
usefulness to us as a scout would be limited."

Once selected, the man goes
through a two-week training period at the KCS training center in Pleiku, where he is given
a basic course in English and introduced to U.S. weapons from behind the sights instead of
in front of them.

The 42-hour block of English
language study emphasizes military, tactical and survival phrases and basic vocabulary. A
12-hour block of organized athletics enables the training cadre to further determine
whether the man will be able to keep up under the rigors of the field. Patrolling, ambush
tactics, and a close look at equipment like miniguns and the helicopters are especially
interesting to the former enemy soldiers.

The officer in charge of the
training program, First Lieutenant Steven D. Carlson, Hingham, Mass., commented,
"It's the first time most of them have ever seen a chopper close-up, and we get a lot
of, 'Oh, number one' reactions from these guys who have learned to respect American
weaponry the hard way. They usually have to work a little to master the M16 but they use
the M79 grenade launcher as kind of a knee mounted mortar and catch on to it real quick;
in fact, I'd say faster than most Americans."

The two-week training session
ends with a formal graduation ceremony at which the scouts receive their distinctive KCS
flop hats adorned with a 4th Division Ivy Leaf insignia on the front and an official KCS
badge. An American buddy teams up with the scout and shows him around until he gets used
to his new surroundings.

"At first, Duc was a little
quiet and stand-offish," said Sergeant Douglas Carnegie, 704th Maintenance Battalion
ambush patrol member, "but now he is just one of the crowd. We all have a lot of
respect for what he says. If he says number ten about something, that's good
enough for us; we won't have anything to do with it. And when he gets scared, we do too,
because he is a pretty hard man to shake.

"Sometimes it gets a little
embarrassing. Like the other day we found what we thought was an entrance to a VC
underground tunnel complex. Duc just laughed, dug down into the tunnel a few feet and came
bounding back out of the hole followed by two porcupines."

In addition to their skill at
fending for themselves in the.jungle, some of the scouts are using specialized talents
learned from the enemy to aid and instruct U.S. troops. Ton Con Nghiep, a 21-year-old KCS,
had worked with the Viet Cong for four years. Two of those years he spent as a sapper,
learning to crawl undetected through the maze of tangled concertina wire that surrounds
American bases throughout Vietnam.

"Nghiep has made believers
out of many of our U.S. troops," said First Lieutenant Willie L. Henton, the officer
in charge of the 4th Division Replacement Training Committee. "When we get new troops
in, we have him give a demonstration on crawling through the wire. It never fails, he
strips to his shorts and snakes his way through the wire without so much as budging a
pebble inside one of the Coke cans that hang on the wire. When the U.S. soldier goes on
bunker guard the next week he'll do a lot less daydreaming and a lot more looking."

Each scout earns 5000 piastres a
month as base pay. He is entitled to the same advantages and treatment as a U.S. soldier,
with the exception of PX privileges. He is clothed, housed, and fed as a U.S. soldier,
receives the same medical attention and has a chance to work his way to higher pay scales
based on his leadership ability, the same as the U.S. soldier.

His job as a scout lasts as long
as he wants it to. He can quit at any time, and if he does not do his job well, his
service can be terminated.

"Our attrition rate is
relatively low," Lieutenant Ponzo boasted. "And the program is getting better
all the time. I guess the word gets around about what we expect of them, so if they don't
think they can handle the job, they just don't volunteer. This last graduating class of 19
scouts was probably one of the most physically fit we have ever had."

The youngest member of that
class, 14-year-old Tran Van Hong, standing with his classmates after the graduation
ceremony, was called to the side and asked how he felt about his new job as a Kit Carson
Scout.

"Too soon to tell," he replied
grinning, "but your C-rations sure don't fill me up." He saw his new American
buddy motion to him that it was time to go and excused himself with a nod. Then with an
impish nonchalance he put his hat on backwards and headed toward the truck.

One year ago the little village of Plei Xo
squatted in a corner of the Central Highlands like a forgotten child.

The tiny hamlet was only 18 miles southwest of
the bustling city of Pleiku, but the farmers and charcoal makers of Plei Xo could not
easily get into town to sell their goods. Commuting was done by man's oldest method
-- walking.

Then the U.S. Army Engineers arrived in the area,
cutting National Highway 9 west from Pleiku out past Plei Xo to the civilian irregular
defense group camp and airfield at Duc Co. The Army built the road principally to
supply their troops, but in the meantime that little hamlet attached itself to that
asphalt highway and suddenly became open to the outside world.

Soldiers resurface a road
with asphalt

Sturdy thatched homes and bright shops and
churches now line both sides of QL-19 at Plei Xo. The farmers trade their produce
with the people of Pleiku for some of the comforts of modern life. "You see
more and more scooters and other vehicles traveling between the village and Pleiku,"
commented Major Clayton H. Carmean, operations officer of the unit that built the road.

"It just sort of snuck up on us,"
Lieutenant Thomas G. Lester, another engineer said, for the engineers had hardly noticed
the village when they built the road. But the Army is not likely to overlook these
little villages again as they push into one of the most ambitious road building projects
Vietnam has ever seen.

There are plans for the U.S. Army Engineers in
Vietnam to lay down 2,200 miles of paved highways. Before long a driver should be
able to get behind the wheel and go from the Delta through Saigon through the Central
Highlands and out to the shore of the South China Sea. If he keeps his eye on the
road, he should be able to maintain a steady 50 miles an hour with hardly a bad bump.

The Army's engineers, aided by civilian
contractors and allied units, are opening highways all over Vietnam near small villages
like Plei Xo. Their big bulldozers are cutting across the flat, dry Central
Highlands and sloshing through areas in the Delta quickly drained to make new
thoroughfares. Engineer units are scalling down their military base improvement
projects and hitting the roads in increasing numbers. "Right now, 51 percent of
our efforts are involved in this road program," said Major Carmean, operations
officer of the 937th Engineer Group, 18th Engineer Brigade.

"Look here," he said, pointing to a map
of the northern II Corps area where the 937th Group is cutting its roads. "Here
you have the heavily populated city of Pleiku, and here, to the north, you have Kontum.
It's an awfully nice little town in an area that produces bananas, tea and coffee.
We've been improving Highway 14 between these two cities and the civilian traffic
between them is up to 2,000 vehicles a week, going both ways. Any time you have that
kind of commerce both cities benefit."

"Now here, north of Kontum, is the
Montagnard village of Kon Ho'ring. We've been extending the tactical road up past
them to Dak To, and the Montagnards now use the road to bring their products into
Kontum."

He pointed out that east-west traffic from the
coast to Pleiku and back is also increasing as his men turn National Highway QL-19 into a
Class A road. Military traffic still predominates, but the sturdy 23-foot wide road
with 8-foot shoulders is being used heavily by all kinds of vehicles. In a recent
week, U.S. military vehicles made 5,687 trips back and forth on the highway, while ARVN
vehicles made 808 trips and Vietnamese civilians made 1,415 trips.

"One reason we're going to see more civilian
traffic on these roads," Major Carmean said, "is that the enemy can't mine the
road as effectively when it's paved with asphalt. It's much harder for them to
emplace the mines so that we can't see them. And we can sweep the road much faster
and easier because we can see the mines better. Thus, the civilians are much more
confident about using these roads."

The new roads promise to frustrate the Communists
just as much in the Delta. "Currently with no ready transportation for their
goods to market, the farmers don't raise as much as they can and realize little profit for
what they do raise," said Lieutenant Colonel Richard E. Leonard, commander of an
engineer unit that is improving a section of National Highway QL-4, the sole land link
between Saigon and the Delta.

The engineers all over Vietnam were racing
against time to build as many miles of road as possible during the dry season and seal
them water-tight with asphalt before the monsoon rains gave Vietnam its yearly
soaking. If water gets into the rocks and packed earth that make up the base of
these roads, they will begin to deteriorate immediately and be useless by the time the dry
season arrives again.

But the engineers were winning the race, with the
help of a bonus in heavy construction equipment -- $18 million worth of it bought off the
shelf and shipped to Vietnam to give the accelerated road building program an extra boost.

"This new equipment was a tremendous help to
us," Major Carmean said. "The rock crushers, rollers and other equipment
helped us improve both the speed and the quality of our construction."

With all the new equipment came new experiments
in road building to meet the unusual engineering challenges of sub-tropical terrain.
For instance, the 36th Battalion was trying to lay one section of road through an area
that was under water.

"At first the natives were very skeptical of
the whole thing. Then when they saw our bulldozers working in the paddies they were
dumb-founded -- they couldn't believe they were floating," Major F.H. Griffis,
battalion operations officer said.

Cleverly using dikes and improvised upriver tide
tables, the Delta engineers were able to drain the area down to a heavily soaked layer of
mud and clay. They stripped that off and laid down layers of compacted clay, then
layers of clay and lime that chemically react together to stiffen the base. Finally,
cement was mixed into the clay-lime as a top layer and the road was sealed with asphalt.

An earthmover distributes
lime on a Delta
roadbed, leaving a trail of white dust

"The clay-lime stabilization technique we
are using here has never been tried on a large scale," Lieutenant Donald Wolf,
construction officer for the 36th Battalion, said. "It has been used for small
patches on highways in the U.S. but never on anything as big as this."

In the Highlands, the engineers also insisted on
making their construction as permanent and solid as possible. "Supporting this
bridge are 42 piles driven 20 to 30 feet into the ground," Platoon Sergeant George W.
Sampson stated as he watched his men of the 3rd Platoon, Company B, 20th Battalion, 937th
Engineer Group pour cement into forms for a bridge abutment on QL-19 West.
"This keeps the concrete from shifting and helps distribute the weight of anything
going across the bridge. You know, as concete ages, it gets stronger. This
bridge will last anywhere from 50 to 75 years before it starts deteriorating."

Barring major calamities, the bridges and
hard-surfaced roads will continue to be built at a rapid pace. The Vietnamese will
reap the benefits of this network of highways for years after they are completed.
"While these roads are listed as line of communication projects, I believe they are
the largest civic action project in Vietnam. The potential impact on the Vietnamese
economy is tremendous," Colonel Leonard said.

"These roads will make friends," Major
Carmean predicted, "and in the long run, when the fighting lets up, they are going to
help improve the Vietnamese economy almost overnight. The Vietnamese will be able to
get around so much better and that will have an enormous effect on everything."

A veneer of red highlands soil, ground into powder by the churning tracks of
tanks, covered the men, machinery, and heavily sandbagged buildings of Fire Base
Blackhawk, 20 miles east of Pleiku. The 2d Squadron, 1st Cavalry, had operated out of the
firebase for nearly two years, patrolling Highway 19 from the Mang Yang Pass west to
Pleiku and north on Highway 14 from Kontum to Dak To.

Now the cavalry unit prepared for
a 300-mile journey to a new area of operations. The squadron was moving from the
operational control of the 4th Infantry Division to Task Force South, the American command
responsible for the southern area of II Corps. For the troopers of the 2d Squadron it
would mean a new climate and a new terrain but a familiar mission: clear and secure a road
vital both to the war effort and the civilian economy.

Tanks and armored combat assault
vehicles (ACAVs) crowded the inside of the perimeter of Firebase Blackhawk. All three line
troops were there, jammed into a maintenance area that usually held only one troop at a
time while the others worked the roads. Within three days the first of the armored mobile
homes would begin the journey. The old tensions and anxieties that went with daily ambush
patrols and road security positions were replaced by the pressure of preparing for the
move.

The Cav would travel east on
highway 19 to the coastal city of Qui Nhon, where the vehicles and their drivers would be
loaded on ships and transported more than 250 miles to the southern II Corps city of Phan
Thiet. The remaining crew members would travel ahead of their vehicles by air.

The Cav's new job would be to
clear and secure a treacherous 100 mile stretch of Highway 1 running from the III Corps
border north to Phan Rang. For years enemy ambushes had restricted both military and
civilian travel. The Blackhawks would be starting from scratch, and would no longer have
the intelligence help from local villagers on whom they depended in their old area of
operations. It would take time to gain the trust and respect of the Vietnamese inhabitants
of the area, most of whom had little experience with American troops.

The squadron is made up of five
troops: three line troops, manning tanks and ACAVs; a headquarters troop; and an air
cavalry troop which had been assigned to the 1st Brigade of the 4th Infantry Division,
operating out of An Khe, about 30 miles east of Firebase Blackhawk on Highway 19. The line
troops would move out at one-day intervals.

Charlie Troop was the last to
join the waiting squadron at Firebase Blackhawk after returning from an ambush patrol just
south of Kontum. Specialist 4 Thomas R. Prince, a mortar track gunner from Ann Arbor,
Mich., recalled the fight while he prepare his equipment for the move. "We lost three
men and that's always bad," he said as he pulled the soot covered rag from his mortar
tube. "But I guess the action was a good tune-up for whats to come."

The men were briefed on their new
AO and the country they would cover on the road to Qui Nhon. Keeping their vehicles and
weapons in top battle condition is a routine operation for the Blackhawks, and now the
prospect of facing unfamiliar territory made their maintenance chores seem even more
important.

Charlie Troop, accompanied by the
medical, communication, and maintenance sections of Headquarters Troop, was the first to
move. At 8:30 a.m., May 29, they rolled out of Firebase Blackhawk for the last time.
The armored column stretched along Highway 19 for two miles. The troopers pushed east over
the Mang Yang Pass, a graveyard for more than 2,000 French soldiers who died in fighting
along the road. Their grave markers at the summit of the pass, a familiar sight to the
cavalrymen, were hidden by a low cloud cover.

As they lumbered through, the
soldiers thoughts turned from the French tragedy to hopes for a safe arrival at the
days destination, the camp of the 160th Heavy Equipment Maintenance Company (HEM),
about 20 miles west of Qui Nhon. The territory beyond the Mang Yang Pass was new country
for the cavalrymen. Their usual visual diet of highlands bush country and simple
Montagnard villages was replaced by the flat farm land and scattered Vietnamese villages
along the route to the coast. Early in the afternoon, Charlie Troop pulled into the
maintenance yard of the 160th HEM Company.

Within 30 minutes the men were
cleaning and checking their vehicles. This was the last chance to put the Cav machines in
top condition before boarding the ships that waited in Qui Nhon harbor. The tanks and
ACAVs that could not be put into shape were replaced by new or rebuilt vehicles. The
mechanics of the 160th and the cavalrymen worked carefully but quickly, knowing
that the success of the mission, at this point, depended on how fast they could
recondition the squadrons vehicles.

The Colonel John U. D. Page, an
Army ship, and six Navy LSTs (Landing Ship, Tank) waited in the Qui Nhon harbor to carry
the Cav to Phan Thiet before the semi-monthly high tide was lost. The heavily loaded craft
needed the deep water of the high tide to get close enough to the beach to unload their
cargo. Failure to meet this tidal deadline would delay the trip more than two weeks. With
this in mind, and knowing that Alpha and Bravo troops would arrive within the next two
days to further congest the maintenance areas, the inspection teams and the men of Charlie
Troop worked steadily into the early morning hours.

It's a big job for everyone, but
it's one that must be done," said Chief Warrant Officer 3 Joseph Williams, Grand
Ledge, Mich., of the 160th. "We would rather do the maintenance here than have them
break down somewhere out in the bush. And besides, we're not doing half as much as the men
of the Cav. Just take a look around you."

The 160th maintenance yard was
alive with the discordant clanks of metal against metal, the heavy smell of oil and
solvent, and the earnest voices of active tank and ACAV crew members. Engines were pulled
and repaired or replaced. Hydraulic systems were overhauled, and tracks and transmissions
were dismantled, repaired, and reassembled. Even so, some of the battle-weary machines
would not continue with the squadron to Phan Thiet.

The squadron would leave Qui Nhon
with eight new tanks, five new ACAVs, and one new mortar carrier, all of which had to be
uncrated, assembled, and modified for Vietnam warfare. The 50-caliber machine guns,
normally mounted inside the tank commander's armored cupola, were removed and externally
mounted. "Moving the 50 gives the tank commander much more flexibility in his rate of
fire," explained Specialist 5 Frederick M. McCarty, Tucson, Ariz., a tank gunner.
"It is mounted inside as an anti-aircraft gun, and thank God we don't need that.
Anvway, Charlie is pretty scared of it. There isn't much it won't fire through, and we
like to get the most we can out of it."

Metal plates that slope downward
at the ends of the tank's fenders, built to protect the top of the tank from the mud
thrown up by the churning tracks, were cut off. "Well take the mud," said
Specialist McCarty. "The jungle terrain will bend the plates down anyway and
interfere with the movement of the track. In our job its more important to be
mobile than clean." Additional gas-can brackets are mounted on the rear of the
tanks, and large, empty ammunition cans were fastened around the turret for storage of
personal belongings.

The squadron's vehicles rolled in
and out of the 160th maintenance shop for three days. After putting their machines through
the gauntlets of inspection and maintenance, some of the cavalrymen rested. Private First
Class Lin Bell, a tank gunner from Eugene, Ore., sat on a cot beside his battle-ready
tank. Now he had time to think about the mission that lay ahead. "I'm a little
scared," he said. "Everyone is frightened when they get shot at, even in a tank,
and we all have a pretty good idea that Chuck is going to be there to greet us. Even so,
I'm ready to go. Being cooped up here in this motor pool is working on my nerves."

At 6 a.m., three days after they
arrived, Charlie troop left the 160th. The early morning sun silhouetted the Vietnamese
towns scattered along the remaining strip of Highway 19 as the tanks and ACAVs pushed
toward Qui Nhon harbor. Three hours later the vehicles were sitting close together,
waiting to load on the John U.D. Page.

The Page's massive loading
ramp was lowered, connecting her 338-foot deck with the beach, where more than 50 tracked
and wheeled vehicles and their drivers waited to board. By noon, the bulky machines bad
been wedged into position and chained to the deck. The Page set out with her 9,000
tons of cargo, leaving six smaller Navy LSTs waiting in the harbor for Bravo and Alpha
troops. The Page's The Page's massive loading
ramp was lowered, connecting her 338-foot deck with the beach, where more than 50 tracked
and wheeled vehicles and their drivers waited to board. By noon, the bulky machines bad
been wedged into position and chained to the deck. The Page set out with her 9,000
tons of cargo, leaving six smaller Navy LSTs waiting in the harbor for Bravo and Alpha
troops.

"This is what the Page was
built for," said the suntanned skipper, Chief Warrant Officer 3 Fred C. Ryle, Newport
News, Va. "It's what we call a 'ro-ro' mission, meaning roll-on, roll-off."
Shuttling priority cargo along the coast of Vietnam keeps the ship's deck loaded with a
variety of war supplies, ranging from bombs and ammunition to food and clothing. Now
underway, and well ahead of the semi-monthly tidal retreat on June 6, Mr. Ryle turned his
attention to the daily tide. "Without the help of the daily high water we'd have to
anchor out a full day after reaching Phan Thiet. Under normal conditions the extra day at
sea would simply be an unwelcome delay, but it is even more important that it be avoided
on this trip."

Six more ships would arrive
within the next two days and use the same narrow strip of beach for landing. If the
Page could hold an average speed of 10 knots, she would arrive at her destination at 1 p.m.
on June 2, a comfortable three hours before the retreat of the daily high tide.

The cavalrymen aboard the Page left the nautical problems to the ship's crew, and made themselves comfortable even
though the deck of the ship was so crowded with machinery that a walk from one end of the
ship to the other meant jumping from vehicle to vehicle. Poncho liners, tied to the
vehicle antennas, formed a shade canopy across the rows of tracks. Cots and sleeping bags
worked their way into the ships obscure corners, providing refuge from the hot,
metal deck. The bellies of the tanks and ACAVs had been well-stocked with C-rations and
soda, and meal time was whenever the men were hungry. For a day, the Blackhawks had a
chance to put their feet up and let someone else worry about getting them there.

At 2:30 p.m. on June 2nd, 26½
hours after leaving Qui Nhon, the ship's loudspeaker carried the skipper's familiar voice,
this time not to the crew, but to the cavalrymen: "Gentlemen, we are about 45 minutes
outside of our destination. Please prepare yourselves and your vehicles for landing."

Unfavorable winds had slowed the Page to an average speed of 8.5 knots, and she had lost almost two hours of valuable high
tidal time. The battle machines still chained to the ship's deck would have to be unloaded
quickly, without incident, in order for the Page to back off the beach ahead of the
tidal retreat.

The Cav's 9,000 tons of
men and machinery clear
the Page's deck. The unloading took just over
30 minutes, giving the ship ample time to return
to deep water ahead of the tidal retreat.
The drivers and vehicles were rejoined by their
crew members who had traveled ahead by air.

This was the first beach landing
for many of the cavalrymen, but it seemed like a well-practiced, everyday occurrence. The
men and the 9,000 tons of machinery cleared the ship's deck and rolled onto the Phan Thiet
beach in only 30 minutes.

The Page quickly slipped
away from the beach and into deep water, as the Blackhawks moved inland to their,
temporary tactical headquarters in a sandy open field south of the city. The drivers and
vehicles were rejoined by the crew members who had arrived a day earlier on C-130s. Now
Charlie Troop waited for Bravo and Alpha troops and prepared for their trek along the
dangerous stretch of Highway 1. Maps of the new AO had been thoroughly studied before the
men left Firebase Blackhawk, and with that education behind them, the Cav wanted a
first-hand look at what they faced. A helicopter reconnaissance trip took two key officers
north along the highway to Song Mao. The village would eventually be the Cav's tactical
operations center. The visual reconnaissance confirmed earlier reports of heavy enemy
activity. A roadblock of fallen trees had been set up only a short way outside Phan Thiet.
A rebuilt bridge rested on the crumpled wreckage of its predecessor.

This rebuilt bridge stands
above the wreckage
of its predecessor north of Phan Thiet on Highway 1.
The road, once vulnerable to enemy sabotage,
is now patrolled daily by the troopers of the 2/1 Cavalry.

During the troop briefing that
followed the reconnaissance trip, Charlie Troop's commander told his men what he had seen
and what changes to expect. "Were going to have to start this one from the hip,
slow and easy," he said. Instead of the congested bamboo jungle of the highlands, the
Cav would operate in flat, open shrub-covered land broken by sporadic patches of triple
canopy forest. The land would be unfamiliar, the local villagers would be new to the
cavalrymen and their AO would extend over three times as much road.

These thoughts of change only
whetted the Cav's desire to start. The cramped living conditions of the past 10 days had
made the men restless, eager to return to the freedom and challenge of the road.
"It's a new country for us," said the commander, ending his briefing, "but
well get the job done."

And the
Action Was Waiting . . .

After only two days at its new
firebase 40 miles south of Phan Rang, Alpha Troop was called to reinforce an ARVN company
in contact. Led by Captain Robert Witton, Park Forest, Ill., the troop responded quickly
by pouring 90mm tank rounds and 50-caliber machine gun fire into the NVA positions,
killing seven.

Three days later, Bravo and Charlie Troops were
securing the southern sector of the squadron's AO when they drew fire from an estimated
company-sized force of would-be ambushers. The enemy was ill-equipped to slug it out with
the Blackhawks' tanks and armored vehicles. B40 rockets, grenades, and AK-47s were no
match for the Cav's sophisticated arsenal.